by Jordan Marie
“What’s changed?” I ask Skull. Alarm bells are going off. The Torasani are settled in New York. They are notoriously private, but Victor has been labeled as a recluse. He’s rarely seen. For him to be coming here…
“Haven’t found out. Still researching, just wanted to give you a heads up. You’re too far away for me to get men to you quickly, so Diesel is stepping in. You should have some backup within a few hours. I can have people at your side tomorrow afternoon, but you’re just a few hours from Diesel. His men are already cutting through Cherokee. They’ll be there before the Torasani’s touch down.”
“Get word to have them meet me at my woman’s.”
“Your woman?” he asks, shock thick in his voice, but maybe not as much shock as I’m feeling right now. Fuck.
“I…Fuck…”
“Beast, brother, what’s going on?” Skull prompts.
I rub the back of my neck in frustration. Shit. Am I claiming Hayden? Why the fuck would she even want to saddle herself with me? She just ran away from me earlier. Hell, she’s hiding in the restroom from me now.
“It’s complicated,” I hedge.
“Christo,” Skull mutters. “Pistol’s hermana.” His comment annoys the fuck out of me.
“She’s a good woman, Skull. She’s…special,” I mutter.
“Is she yours?” he asks, and just the thought of it makes my heart stall. Mine?
“She doesn’t need to be saddled with someone like me,” I growl, looking over my shoulder at the bathroom door.
Skull lets out with a stream of Spanish. I don’t know what all of it means, but the majority of it is cursing and it’s all directed at me. I start to respond, but there’s a woman that comes into my line of sight. She turns the knob to the bathroom door and it opens… What the fuck? I thought Hayden was in there.
“I got to go, brother. Just get a hold of Diesel’s men and tell them where I’ll be,” I tell Skull, hanging up before he can respond. I store my phone back in my pocket and go to the bathroom. I try the door, but it’s locked. I pound on it. “Hayden! Hayden! Open this fucking door!”
“There’s no Hayden in here,” comes the scared voice through the door.
Motherfucker. I stomp off. Where did she go? How fucking long has she been gone? Fear is grabbing a hold of me and I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t calm myself and think methodically like I need to. All I can grasp is that Hayden is missing, and I have to find her. I have to.
Panic makes it hard to think logically. I’ve tried to think of where Hayden might have disappeared to. Women shop, so I figured the gift shop. She’s not there. I even made myself go to the chapel, because I thought she might be there praying for Charlie. She wasn’t and stepping in there wasn’t the best feeling I ever had. The last time I stepped foot in a chapel it was to pray that God somehow turn back time and bring my daughter back to me. They say that he can do miracles—that he can bring the dead back to life. If he could do that, then why couldn’t he have saved Annabelle? She was innocent. She deserved to live. Dani tried to tell me that God has a plan that we can’t understand. Some mumbo-jumbo about how for her it was so her and Crusher could rescue their son.
I like her, so I didn’t tell her she’s full of shit. There’s no plan. There’s no rhyme and definitely no fucking reason. If God exists, he’s a twisted motherfucker who is getting his kicks out of destroying me. Maybe I deserve that. Annabelle didn’t. Hayden and Maggie don’t, and I’m not waiting for God to destroy who I care about, this time.
The cafeteria is my next stop. It’s completely empty, and by this time, I’m ready to fucking scream. I look around the room feeling helpless and one step away from throwing something through the damn window. That’s when I see her. She’s outside by the door, but within sight of the window. She’s standing with the preacher, holding onto him for dear life. At first, I can feel nothing but jealousy. I’m ready to march out there and rip her away from him. Then I look beyond them to see Blade standing there. He’s bent over, screaming at Hayden and way too close to her. I let out a roar that echoes through the hospital. It sounds as if it is ripped out from the pits of Hell and maybe it is. I’ve spent enough time there. It’s time to end this motherfucker. It’s time to make sure Hayden and Maggie are safe.
I don’t remember walking from the cafeteria to the door. I don’t remember taking my eyes off Hayden. But one minute, I’m standing, looking through the window, and the next, I’m outside.
“What’s going on here?” I hear the preacher ask.
I make sure I answer for him. “I’m going to kill you, motherfucker,” I bellow.
Blade’s face jerks up, and I can see his eyes are swollen, before I reach him however, he pulls out a gun. There’s screams from the people around us that had been sitting at the tables. My first instinct is to ignore the gun and charge. I may die, but I’d end Blade first. Then the fucker does something that I don’t expect. He turns the gun on Hayden.
“Take another step, and I’ll end the bitch and just be done with it,” Blade warns. There’s that fucking fear taking over yet again. I’m starting to resent Hayden for bringing this feeling back into my life. I stop, holding my hands up, like a fucking pussy.
“You try it and you’re a dead man,” I tell him, which is a ridiculous threat. The truth is he’s a dead man walking right now. The minute I get the opportunity, he is done.
“You’ve become attached to my leftovers. You ain’t going to do shit, if you think it will hurt her. Maybe I should just shoot the fucking cunt now so you can watch her bleed out,” Blade sneers, and I do my best to keep the image he describes from forming in my head. It doesn’t work. “The Blaze is just like everyone rumored, little boys who get led around by their dicks by a bunch of pussies. Pathetic really.”
“Not as pathetic as a man who gets his dick hard by hurting innocent women.”
“There’s nothing innocent about Hayden. She was innocent when she came to my bed, but so fucking eager. I’m sure you’ve enjoyed that by now, though. Hayden always was quick to spread her legs. Hell, Beast, ol’ buddy, I bought her one day and had my dick in her a week later.”
He’s taunting me, his barbs are hitting me right where he wants them to. I do my best not to let it show that they hit. I think I manage to keep my face stoic—barely. I hear Hayden’s hurt-filled gasp from behind me, and I ignore it too. I keep my eyes trained on the shit-sack in front of me, and I focus my mind on envisioning me choking the life from him with my hands.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” I tell him, truthfully. Then the strangest look comes on his face. He’s looking over my shoulder through the glass behind me. I try to look too, but I’m afraid to take my eyes off the gun.
“Not today, Beast. But soon, I’ll show you exactly who will survive our showdown. Enjoy my scraps while you can. Soon, every hole she has will be used by my men, and some she doesn’t even have yet. Maybe I’ll let you live long enough to see just how much she likes it,” he taunts, backing away.
I yell out a war cry at him, and charge. Common sense is gone. I’ve had it with this fucker. He fires his gun and for a second I lose my breath, thinking he shot Hayden. Then I feel the bullet hit my leg and it buckle under me. I hear Hayden scream. My eyes go to her, and I see the Pastor trying to hold her away from me. My face jerks back around to Blade who is laughing before he runs, getting away from me.
He won’t be able to hide though. There won’t be a rock he can crawl under.
He’s a dead man.
73
Hayden
Watching Michael get shot is the single, most terrifying thing I’ve ever endured. I try to run to him but Pastor Sturgill grabs my arm and keeps me from moving. I watch in horror as Michael goes down, and I can’t stop the scream that feels like it is ripped from my soul. My hands wrap around the Pastor’s arm, and I dig my nails into him, scratching hard. I know I will bring blood, but I don’t care at this moment. All I want is to get to Michael. When his hold lo
osens, I tear free and get to Michael.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God….” I repeat over and over, moving my hands down to his leg. There’s a darkened spot on the faded denim of his jeans. “Someone get a doctor! Get help!” I scream.
Michael grunts.
“I’m okay, Hayden. It’s a clean shot. It just grazed,” he mutters, and he’s trying to get up—like a crazy man!
“You were shot!” I practically shriek. “There’s nothing okay about that!”
“Let me up, woman,” he grumbles, and I shift my weight as much as I can to hold him down.
“No! You aren’t moving until the doctor’s come and get you. You could bleed out!”
“Damn it, Hayden! Let me up, you’re letting that fucker get away!”
“Who cares! I need you to be safe. I need you to be okay, Michael,” I tell him, and I realize I’m pleading. The gravity of Michael being shot because of me hits me head on. It robs me of breath and it makes me hurt...everywhere. He could have died…because of me.
“I’m fine,” he rumbles again, and this time, he manages to get up, but I see the pain on his face. I can only imagine the blood standing up will cause him to lose. The man is insane. He has to be. I stand, trying to block him from leaving. He puts his hands on my shoulder to move me. I know, because I can see the intent in his eyes.
“Please, don’t leave, Michael. Please. Just let them check you out.”
“Damn it, Hayden. I’m trying to protect you. I need to stop that prick from getting away,” he growls, full of frustration.
I’m giving up hope of trying to be able to keep him with me when another man comes out the door. He’s older. If I had to guess I’d say he might be late fifties, early sixties. He’s got dark hair, but there’s more than an abundance of gray sprinkled in. It’s groomed impeccably, a close cut that you can tell is done by more than just a normal barber. His suit is gray and reeks of money. It’s so perfectly cut and tailored your eyes are drawn to it. He’s got a lone ring on one finger, a large insignia ring with the letter T, surrounded by a red ruby backdrop.
“He won’t be getting far,” the man says, his voice coming out sweet and thick like honey. Almost too sweet.
Something about it sets off alarm bells, and I find myself getting closer to Michael. He must sense it too, because his arms come around me. For a second, I forget that Michael has been shot and is standing up like a crazy man, probably losing more blood with every second that passes.
Then the staff comes out with a gurney. I hear Michael growl and the next few minutes are a blur of activity. The man in the suit, leaves without further word. Michael tries to follow him, or at least talk to him, only to be waylaid by the hospital staff. Cops begin to swarm the area, along with hospital security. They’re all asking me questions, and I leave it to Pastor Sturgill to answer, as I stick like glue to Michael’s side. Michael refuses to get on a gurney and finally an orderly convinces him to sit in a wheelchair. I’m beside him as they wheel him through the hospital. I’m wondering if life will ever get back under control.
I’m scared it won’t.
74
Beast
“I can’t believe you didn’t stay in the hospital,” Hayden says for like the hundredth time.
In answer, I grunt, which makes her roll her eyes at me and huff. It’s cute and for some fucking reason despite all the shit going down, I want to laugh.
“Get in bed. You’re giving me a headache,” I tell her. She’s pacing back and forth in front of the bedroom door while I’m lying on the bed. Her arms are hugged tight against her chest and she just keeps pacing. It’d be annoying as fuck, if she wasn’t so cute.
“I can’t get in bed with you, Michael.”
“Why in the hell, not?”
“There’s men in my living room! Men I don’t know! What would they think if I slept in here with you?”
“I doubt they give a damn. But, if they think about it at all, they probably think we’re sleeping. Which I might be doing if you’d get in bed.”
“Michael!”
“Just do it, Hayden. You need rest. The baby needs rest and it’s not going to get better around here anytime soon.” She studies me for a minute, then mimics one of my grunts, and gets in bed. Once she does, I pull her to me, instantly relaxing.
“Be careful of your leg,” she chastises.
“My leg is fine.”
“That’s why they wanted to keep you in the hospital, I’m sure,” she sasses, but settles her head against my shoulder.
My fingers dive into her hair without me realizing it. The feel of the soft tresses against my fingers calm me. Having Hayden next to me does that even more.
She’s silent for a few minutes, but I can literally feel some of the tension leaving her body. “I can’t believe I got you shot,” she whispers as if confessing she murdered someone. Her voice is full of shame and sorrow…over me. That does something to me, I don’t know how to explain it, or what it does exactly, but there’s something there. Something elemental that shifts in my thinking of her.
I practically claimed Hayden to Skull today. I’ve already taken on the role to protect her and Maggie, and even if I keep going back and forth on the issue, I know that I’m taking her body. What would be the harm in keeping her? If she’s not put off by my scars, then why can’t I keep her? If she’s stupid enough to want me, then why can’t I claim her? She may deserve better, but fuck…I have to be better than Blade. I could make sure her and Maggie are taken care of, are happy enough. Why can’t I keep, Hayden?
“You didn’t get me shot,” I mutter, my thoughts are full of images of tying Hayden to me. Can I trust myself to keep her and Maggie safe…permanently? “You just kept me from ending that fucker’s life. Though, I’ll still get him, I just wish I already had.”
“Do you think Victor has already?” Hayden asks, referring to Victor Torasani, who was the man who showed up at the hospital today. I had a meeting scheduled with them tomorrow at Charlie’s diner. Of all the connections I thought that Charlie might have had with the Torasani clan, I would have never guessed that she was Victor’s ex-wife. How the fuck does that happen? He’s vowed revenge on the Dwellers and he’ll really get it. I could sit back, but that’s not who I am, and I owe the fucker my own retribution, so I’m not going to stop.
“I don’t know,” I tell her, but I’m doubtful. If the Torasani’s already had Blade in their grasp we would know. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“I don’t want you to go face them alone. They’re dangerous.”
“I’m not exactly a pushover, Hayden,” I grumble, feeling a little slighted. No man wants to think a woman feels he’s not capable. Me especially.
“I didn’t say you were, but you are just one man,” she sighs in answer.
“I’ll have some of Diesel’s men with me. I’ll be leaving a couple here with you.”
“I have to go stock shelves at the church and the supermarket and places. I’m already late. I don’t want them to stop selling my products, Michael.”
“That preacher will take you, and Ace will be riding with you. I want men with you at all times. I’d rather send Ace with you alone—”
“No,” she whispers, and I can hear the fear. I need to rid her of that someday soon.
“I get you don’t know him and he might scare you,” I start to try and set her at ease.
“It’s not that I’m scared, it’s just—”
“It’s okay, Hayden. That’s why Pastor Sturgill will be there. You know him. He’ll be there too.”
“Are you ashamed of me?” she asks a few minutes later.
“Why would I be ashamed?” I ask, truly surprised and confused. Who knows what women get in their heads.
“Because I’m weak. I try to stop it. I swear I do. I know I need to be stronger, for Maggie,” she continues to whisper.
“Hayden…”
“I really do try, Michael. I don’t like being weak.”
I kiss
her forehead. “You are getting stronger.”
“I’m not. Not really.”
“You are. You didn’t have a panic attack today, did you?” I prompt her and she’s silent for a minute and I hope she’s thinking things over.
“No, but that…that was because I knew you were close by. You would find me,” she says and my hand searches hers. Linking our fingers, I stare at our joined hands. It’s a simple connection; it has been from the beginning. Yet with Hayden, the simplicity of holding hands means so much more than it ordinarily does.
“I’ll always find you, Hayden. I promise you that. You don’t have to be afraid or worry about telling me anything. You’re safe with me,” I tell her, and I’m serious, even if there’s this huge fear inside of me that I’ll somehow fail her, like I did Annabelle.
Hayden leans up on her elbow and looks down at me. “I know that. I wish…I wish I had met you a year ago…or even longer. If I knew men like you existed…” she stops talking, her eyes are shining in the semi-darkness of the room.
“Scarred and twisted?” I try and joke, suddenly uncomfortable with the emotion surrounding us.
That’s when Hayden shocks me for the millionth time. She brings her lips to mine without warning and kisses me. Her sweet taste explodes on my lips and it’s that moment that’s my doom. That moment when I surrender everything that I am to her.
75
Hayden
I hate when he refers to his scars. I’ve seen the look on his face when I touch them. I know they bother him, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, they make him feel less somehow. I hate that for him, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ve met men who are “less” of everything and Michael could never be one of them—not inside where it counts the most, not in the very make-up of being a man and definitely not in the way that he looks. Michael is physically beautiful, the scars do nothing to distract from that, at least not in my eyes. The only one that I wish would disappear is the long one on the right side of his face. Not because it hurts me to look at it, but because I know that it hurt him. It left its mark so deeply on him that he grew his hair long, his beard longer still, all with the hope of hiding its viciousness.